To Hide and To Hold
by This Southern Yank
Summary: To promise not to do a thing is the surest way in the world to make a body want to go and do that very thing.   Mark Twain


All Human, Third Person Omniscient POV

Edward knew better than to assume most of the time. To look at a beautiful brunette from across the bar and expect anything, good or bad, is to open the door for disappointment. In making the choice to introduce yourself to her, you cross the room with only a few strategies in hand. One plan to walk away with some dignity intact if she shoots you down, another to impress if she shows some interest, and one more to make a clean exit if she says something to obliterate your interest.

Every so often, Edward would come into the bar after work. It was safe to say that for the past couple of years, he had become a semi-regular and in all that time, never had he seen this woman. Naturally, her fresh presence inspired some curiosity, but mostly it was how she sat at the bar and didn't order a drink. No alcohol, no club soda, no water. Nothing. Edward wasn't normally attracted to enigmatic women, but a change of pace was necessary since the previous one led to one epic failure after another.

She was waiting for something or more appropriately, she was waiting to meet someone so he lingered at his table. Much in the way a hunter would survey the behavior of his prey, but hopefully she wouldn't dart away if she happened to catch his scent.

His view of her was limited since her back was to him, but she ventured to the restroom once and as the toilets were just over his left shoulder, he procured a very satisfactory inspection. She was thin, but not the sort of thin that implied only a carrot stick and a few milliliters of ranch for lunch. Her form was delicate and soft, but not petite. Her height was a good match to his six-foot-two. He was thirty-one years old and his back couldn't curve to accommodate a smaller woman anymore without some serious consequences the next morning. And speaking of age, she was young. The telltale sign was all in her mouth. The inherent pout of youth was set on her lips and it was a trait you couldn't fabricate with the best plastic surgeon in the universe. Her obvious lack of age would be cause for concern if the age limit to enter the building wasn't twenty-one. The possibility of a false license crossed his mind, but he dismissed it quickly. He considered the odds in his favor.

After a half hour had passed and she was still dryly passing the time, he drained the last ounce of his brandy, rose from his chair, and strode over to her. Edward made certain that she could hear him approach; he didn't want to come off as a sneaky bastard. She didn't tense up at the sound of his footsteps and he took that as a sign to summon his trademark crooked grin. Again, Edward knew better than to assume and to be ready for anything, but her words managed to throw him for a loop.

"You don't want to join this angst-fest," she said gently before he had fully settled into the seat next to her. She turned her wide brown eyes on him and offered a sad smile. That small sentence knocked him into silence for a few moments. He had a decision to make. The quiet, mysterious woman had issues. Were those issues enough to dissuade him? No. Not yet. He gave it one more American try.

"That's not what this is. There's not enough alcohol," he waved at the bare counter in front of them. She laughed and shook her head gently. It dislodged some of her hair and it fell forward to cover most of her face. She looked at him again, her gaze fixing on him. Scrutinizing him. She found his determination strange considering the dismissal she tossed his way.

After a few lengthy seconds, she humored him. "Alcohol would make it a pity party. And I'm not in the mood." He liked her voice. It was smooth and soft, but weighed down with emotion.

"May I ask for a name?"

"Do you want a real one?"

"A real one would be preferred."

"But not required?"

"No. Everyone is allowed their secrets. Especially strangers."

"I suppose that's true." Her eyes lost their focus and the tiny smile disappeared.

"I apologize if I brought up a bad memory."

She chuckled to herself. "You don't have to apologize for my PTSD." It was difficult to tell whether or not she was joking. Edward was on unfamiliar ground and he had to tread carefully.

"You've been traumatized lately?" He tried to follow her lead and emulate her dark humor.

"I shouldn't have said that. I was giving dramatics a test-drive," she said apologetically while trailing her fingers through her hair.

"And how does it handle?"

"It stalls," she teased back. Edward liked her banter, but it was hardly enough to get him out of this limbo.

"Is the person you're to meet running late?"

"Yes. I'm waiting for the owner." Immediately, he began to wonder as to her purpose. He knew the owner, Jasper Whitlock. The Texan was dating his younger sister and that put the two of them in the same tight social circle. Jasper usually came in on Fridays well after he left for home. They weren't particularly close, but he would alert Jasper if there was an inspector loitering in his pub.

"I heard that a bartender was leaving soon and I was hoping to fill the position," she explained. Edward had noticed that in the past few weeks the primary bartender was seldom in attendance. Several alien faces worked the bar in her place. She was a fiery little blonde. Edward had been witness to her none-too-gentle handling of certain expressive patrons. She was definitely effective in her post. He stumbled over her name in his mind.

_Christine? Charlene? Charlotte. Her name was Charlotte._

He envisioned the woman beside him pouring drinks and evading touchy drunkards well into the night. It unnerved him a bit, but her choice of profession was none of his business.

"Is the job search the source of tonight's angst?"

"No. This may be the best job offer I've had in weeks. Which is a dispiriting realization now that I think about it." He caught sight of her hands. One was tracing the fingers of the other in a tender pattern and he couldn't help but imagine what that pattern would feel like on his skin. Mentally slapping himself to regain his focus, he stepped back into the conversation.

"What was the worst?"

"Waitressing. I have…bad days and I just wouldn't be able to handle it."

"Chaos is one of the requirements for a restaurant."

"Yes. And they say it doesn't get too rowdy here."

Edward nodded in confirmation. It was Friday and although the pub was already two-thirds of the way full, it wasn't rambunctious. But to give credit to boisterous conduct, it was barely past sundown. A few groups would arrive, feed coins into the jukebox, and undoubtedly stumble around a bit, but even then The Three-Legged Mare couldn't hold a candle to the nightclubs across town when it came to wild crowds.

The horde control was due to a group of guys Jasper met in college and unofficially hired to sit in the shadows and keep an eye on things. It was to Edward's understanding that they received fees for every mishap they actively treated. Some were only a few inches shy of being seven feet tall and all of them were muscle-bound meatheads. People were highly reluctant to draw any violent attention from them.

"You realize that you still haven't given me a name? Real or not?"

"You asked if you could ask for a name and then you never got around to asking." She didn't notice her own coquettish behavior at first, but it was evident when she did. She frowned and gave her attention to the wood of the bar.

"I didn't, did I? Well, I can rectify that. What is your name?"

"If you tell me what your hopes are tonight, I'll give you my name."

"You didn't say the acquisition of your name came with conditions."

"I didn't. Nevertheless…" She trailed off and observed him expectantly. Edward wasn't sure how to proceed. Should he be honest and tell her that it was his hope to have her in every possible way she could be had? To rouse moans and squeals of pleasure from that mouth that she couldn't dream of controlling? It wasn't often that a woman incited those hopes in him, but he never had a problem chasing them down.

"My hopes tonight…are to have a dark-haired beauty grace my bed."

The slight blush creeping onto her cheeks whispered that my compliment had struck some pleasant nerve and her bubbling laughter shouted her surprise. "One has to appreciate your…conservative honesty. And a deal's a deal. My name is Bella."

"I'm Edward and glad I haven't scared you off with my honesty."

"Don't get your hopes up. I haven't been repelled, but I'm not yet on your hook, Edward."

"I didn't know that you fished, Ed." Jasper's southern twang hacked into the exchange from out of nowhere. Edward faced him, all the while fighting off a scowl. He was told that it could be intimidating and that was the last effect he wished to have on Bella.

"Mr. Whitlock," Bella stood and addressed him professionally even though the man before her donned paint-flecked clothes. There were some chips hanging on to his medium-length blonde hair. The men silently gestured to each other in acknowledgement.

"Please, Ms. Swan. Call me Jasper. I'm very sorry to keep you waitin', but today's been so hectic. As it is, I can only stay to let you know directly about the job offer."

"Oh, well…" She wasn't sure how to proceed. His voice didn't reveal much about his decision.

"My accountant Jessica spoke up for you. She said that even though you have no bartending experience, you are a quick learner. And I trust her judgment. If you don't mind giving me your number, I can call first thing in the mornin' and we can go over a training schedule and all that."

She stared up at him in something akin to awe. Jasper continued beaming at her, unaffected by the silence.

_Charming son of a bitch._

"Um, yes. Of course!" Bella reached for a recently unnoticed messenger bag, pulled a card from it, and handed it to Jasper. "Thank you so much for the opportunity, sir."

"It's weird you callin' me 'sir' when we're both in our twenties, don't ya think?"

She searched for words until she uttered, "Force of habit."

"Okay, ma'am. You'll hear from me tomorrow. 'Round eight. Good night, you two." And he was off, his boots making surprisingly little commotion. Once he had passed through the door and was out of sight, Bella plopped back into her seat, relief radiating from her. Edward sat quietly and waited for her to compose herself. She rubbed at her face, which was much more pink than it was three minutes before, and giggled. There was an ending gasp that forced him to shift in his seat.

"Congratulations, _Ms. Swan_," he playfully praised when she glanced at him.

"Thank you." She twisted around to rest her arms on the surface. "That…was…very easy."

"Jasper is a good judge of character. If he has faith in your friend, he will follow through."

"I owe Jessica a hug or a gift basket. Something that says 'forever grateful'." She spoke more to herself than him. "Are you friends with…Jasper?"

"He dates my sister."

"It seems as though your sister is dating the most wonderful man on the planet."

Edward smothered the bright embers of envy. He told himself that she was only grateful for the job and not infatuated with Jasper. "Would a drink be appropriate for your mood now? Since it would be for celebratory purposes?"

"Maybe. But I can't. I have to drive home." Bella moved to sling her bag's strap over her shoulder and his hand extended to seize hers.

"Are you so quick to dash a man's hopes?" She looked lost and then she remembered his intentions.

"You said you wanted a dark-haired beauty. I'm sure you can hunt down another less troubled one before the night is out, Edward."

"I possibly can, but I am quite certain that I won't find one of higher quality than the one in arm's reach of me." He put on his best face. His green eyes were at his most intense, willing her to set down her bag. His thumb slid back and forth on her palm in a sensual, shiver-inducing design. It was a coalition of seduction that was hard to resist. "Besides…your troubles are quelled for the time being. You have a new job at a respectable establishment-"

A shatter of glass and a shout of 'Fuck!' sounded through the room and Bella laughed at the untimely interruption.

"I assure you: that is about as bad as it will get. And I guarantee that your boss will be generous and accommodating-" This time, it was she that cut him short.

"Boy, you are determined to brighten my day." Her eyes sparkled with a merriment that certainly wasn't there before, but Edward was emboldened with its existence.

"In all the ways you'll allow me, love."

"I've never followed a stranger home in all my life. Why should I shatter my record for you, mister?"

"Don't think of it as shattering your perfect record. Think of it as tonight's second opportunity. A magnificent opportunity." She shook her head and grinned widely. "And if it helps…my name is Edward Anthony Masen. I've lived in Seattle my entire life. I graduated from Washington State and majored in architecture. I designed two of the banks in the business district. They're on Fortification Street. Maybe you've seen them?" Here, Bella began giggling again and her amusement charged the atmosphere between them. His spirits lifted with hers. "Am I still a stranger, Bella?"

"Less so than you were an hour ago, Mr. Masen, graduate of Washington State."

"And architect," he added.

"And architect."

It wasn't long after his severely abridged life story that Bella agreed to leave with him. Since they settled on his apartment which was a ten-minute drive south, he proposed that they take her car and leave his in the pub's parking lot. He had never compromised in that way before but the thought of having her vehicle at the ready put her more at ease. Her comfort was essential to him.

The couple arrived at his building and he waved to the doorman as they passed through the entrance. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the lobby and he noticed that she purposefully lightened her stride to lessen the racket. Edward stepped aside to let his dark-haired beauty into the elevator. He leaned against the wall of the lift, a paragon of calm and across the small space, her shoulders became more and more rigid. Her growing nervousness caused her to constantly shift her weight from one foot to another. When she began to worry her plump bottom lip between her teeth, he touched her arm and she gave a tiny jump.

"Come here," he whispered while pulling her towards him. The motion caught her off-guard and one of her feet tripped over the other and she stumbled into his chest.

"I'm sorry. I-" He silenced her by placing his thumb against her mouth. It was moist from her anxious licking and he couldn't fight the urge to trace its softness. It was so inviting. Her lips beckoned to all his senses and he submitted. Bella watched as he drew closer, his lust-filled eyes closed just before they joined in a simple, intimate motion that would be repeated several times in their night.

The distressing pressure in her mind melted away as his mouth glided against hers, sweeping away all of her higher brain function. His tongue took advantage of the whimper she gave when one of his hands yanked the back of her shirt from her pants and kneaded the flesh he revealed. Goosebumps stole across her skin and her knees threatened to buckle under her, but he sensed it, locked his arm around her slender waist, and spun them so that her body was lined up with the wall.

The sudden touch of the metal drove her breasts into his chest to seek out his warmth and it was all so amazing to her. The way her form bowed to his frame. His hard, defined frame. His scent wasn't ruled by cologne or aftershave. Too much of those artificial smells often triggered one of her headaches, but his smell made her gush in a way that no man's smell ever had.

The elevator's bell rang as her leg was starting to creep along the outside of his and she was glad for the call from reality. She was ready to hump him in a public place. Edward wasn't as happy for the pause. A deep frustrated noise rumbled in his throat and he swept his tongue along hers before pulling away.

Bella followed his brisk pace, her hand tightly wrapped in his once again. She tightened her grip on him when she felt the anxiety trying to slither its way back from where she banished it. In college where casual sex was weaved snugly into the culture, she promised herself that this would be the one thing she would never do. She would never have sex with a man she hardly knew, but at the bar, there was a single moment that brought her justification.

Was having one night of sex with Edward I'm-An-Architect Masen worse than having a year-long relationship with someone she never really knew at all? No, because what she and Edward were giving each other wouldn't end in a total fucking disaster.

He opened the door and led her inside. She didn't take her eyes off of his face. His handsome, enticing face was more than worthy of her undivided attention. She heard his keys skid across a table and fall to the floor, but he wasn't concerned about it. He was occupied with walking her backwards through the front room and into a hallway.

"I suppose it would be polite to offer you something to drink, but-" she was pressed into a wall for the second time that night and his nimble fingers were unbuttoning her top, "-you'll forgive me if we save the polite things for later?"

"Yes. As long as the wicked things come now, please."

"Oh, yes. Without a doubt," he moaned as he parted her shirt until it hung loosely from her arms. His lips played at her neck with soft licks and kisses, lingering in the places that provoked the most intense physical reaction. Edward didn't make a straight line for her panties. He was taking the time to learn her. It was divinely unexpected. He twisted the doorknob and they staggered into the room.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered against her mouth then stepped away. Her sight hadn't yet adjusted to the darkness so when he moved from her, he was swallowed up by the shadows. Her ears caught the sound of him shuffling about the room once the blood stopped rushing around in her brain.

There were several slight clicks and the space filled with a dim glow. Fixtures ran along the wall, but none were on the ceiling. He drew her attention by repeating his request, a predatory smile visible on his face. That look of pure hunger excited her more than she wanted to admit. Parts of her throbbed and warmed to an almost painful degree. He had shed most of his clothes, leaving his chest and feet bare.

When she remained still, he asked, "Do you want the lights off?"

"No. This is just fine." She lowered her arms and her blouse slipped to the floor. Stripping off her clothes in front of a man that was examining her so intensely was intimidating, but she focused on one detail and then the next. Toeing off her heels. Unfastening her slacks. Pushing them past her hips. Gravity took them from that point. Her hands rose to undo the front clasp of her bra and his gravelly voice rang out.

"Stop." He stalked nearer and turned her away from him to face the bed. He swept her hair clear from the side of her neck he wanted to attack. And attack he did, with more vigor than before but zeroing in on the spots he had found. His fingers linked with hers and their combined touch traveled up her thighs, ghosted past her covered mound and her waist, and stopped on her breasts. Sucking her earlobe into his mouth, he commanded their hands to manipulate those mounds of flesh until she squirmed against him uncontrollably. One exceptionally hard backwards thrust of her hips reintroduced her to the throaty groan from the lift. She did it again and again until the sound grew so loud that it shot through every inch of her skin.

His grip moved to her wrists and he growled out again, "Take it off." Technically, he completed his own demand because once the clasp was undone, he grabbed the straps and tossed the garment in the general direction of the door.

He moved her so he could lavish proper attention on her chest. Between his devilish mouth working her nipple and his forefinger and thumb twirling and pinching the other, she didn't detect the tugging at her last piece of clothing until the fresh air flowed over her pussy. The change in temperature allowed her to fully feel the wetness that had gathered and she clenched her legs together. It was instinctual to hide it. He looked up at her and encouraged her to step out of her dark blue panties. He was aware of Bella's attempt to conceal herself, but he didn't want her to do that. She needed to be comfortable with him.

He smoothed his touch down her back and over her ass in an effort to cup her from behind, but she leaned away from him. He wouldn't be deterred.

He rested his forehead against hers and spoke so his lips brushed some part of her face with every syllable. "I want to touch you first. I want to feel you come apart in my hand. I can't do that if you try to hide from me." She indulged him the next time his hand wandered to her core.

An alarm could have blared in the building and he wouldn't have stopped caressing that heavenly place. Finding the exact rhythm that had a woman mewling in pleasure and pleading for more was always a very blessed experience. It took patience and attentiveness, watching and listening for every response and stowing them away for later use. And the reward for breaking the code was so thrilling.

He kicked off his slacks and boxers, picked her up and placed her on his king-sized bed when standing was no longer fulfilling either of their needs. And it was his best decision so far as Bella's orgasms were proving to be miraculous wonders, ones that should only be seen as she was spread out in all her glory. Her knees drew up and out, seeking any leverage to push into his giving fingers. The skin of her torso glowed and stretched as her back rose from the bed only to fall again. Simply beautiful.

He learned quickly that tight, slow circles over her clit coerced the loudest of her screams and that driving two of his fingers relentlessly inside her forced her into a frenzy before she would suddenly collapse and curl into him.

With the last climax, he thought she had fallen asleep. Her face was nuzzled into his chest, completely hidden by a curtain of her hair. Her breathing had slowed dramatically and she had gone still, but it was the movement of her hand that negated the notion that his prowess was too much for her to handle. It very deliberately trailed down between her thighs and began rubbing gently ever so lightly. Had he not satisfied her? He moved to take control of her gratification, but she deflected him. Edward stared as she took hold of him, her digits glistening in the faint light with her juices. She seized control in that moment, clutching and rubbing his erection so confidently. That paired with her wet little tongue discovering the spot just behind his jaw sent his hips flying off the bed. She decided to increase the sweet torture by applying a twist to her stroke and the action made his cock weep with its own essence.

His dark-haired beauty could play him just as well as he played her. It was too good to be true.

He stopped her ministrations by flipping her onto her back. "Such a bad girl," he said, keeping her pinned to the bed when she tried to touch him again.

"On the contrary, I was only returning a favor. And one wouldn't have made us even anyway. Far from it."

"I think we're more even than you realize, Bella." They were engaged in another searing kiss before she could reply. A planned maneuver on his part. Every part of him was running low on patience and one part, the most anxious part, was nudging shamelessly into her stomach. Earlier as he moved around in the dark, he had taken each condom from his wallet and shoved them under a pillow on the bed. She caught him fumbling for one and took it from him. She unhurriedly rolled it down his shaft, rubbing a few times for good measure, and a couple more solely for the shudders that rocked his frame.

He settled down, grinding every inch of his hardness into the cradle of her hips. The glorious friction was propelling them higher and higher until she broke and begged him to go where he was needed most.

The desperation was tremendous. If they were within a mile of their sanity, it would have frightened him. It would have sent her running for the hills, but as it was, when he buried himself inside her, all conscious thought consisted of pleas for more.

Bella cried out and yanked at his shoulders as they crashed together almost violently. Edward's moans and rumbles would not be controlled. The sounds were louder than he had ever allowed them in the past.

"Oh! Please, please, please, Edward!" She didn't have an idea as to what she wanted from him and neither did he, but he served to her everything he could gather. He stood on his knees and pushed apart her thighs, watching his cock plow into her at a speed that shocked him.

He paused to eye her body. Some parts were redder than the others, the spots where he had gotten carried away with his grip. Those places would be bruised if not very sore the next morning. He didn't want to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her.

"What's wrong?" she asked once she had caught her breath.

"Are you alright?" he dodged her question to deliver his own. Her well-being was more important. She lifted her arms and he pulled her up to sit in his lap.

"Yes. I'm very much okay." She pressed her lips to his delicately until he returned her kisses. In time he took the reins again, but the feverish power was absent. Their connection was different, but not unwanted. She stayed straddling him as they moved together in the middle of his bed. The rocking of her hips became slower until she stopped wholly, mostly frozen in the overwhelming sway of her orgasm. Her muscles tightened around him sporadically and he thrust upward until he was overwhelmed with her.

He fell backwards and brought her down onto the bed to lay on top of him. This was where the awkwardness normally made itself known especially since it was her first night like this. What was said? Who would use the bathroom first? Was the drink mentioned earlier ever going to be mentioned again?

But as she shivered atop him, her cool breath fanning over his skin, he didn't employ any strategy. He didn't even open his eyes. He touched all the warm skin he could reach, matched her breathing, and slipped into a peaceful sleep.

**Disclaimer: This story is in no way, shape, or form officially affiliated with the Twilight franchise. In other words, nobody is cutting me a check for this little tale. **

**Please assist an aspiring writer *cough* and leave your comments and thoughts. Even if your thoughts aren't complimentary. **

**Happy Holidays! :D**


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